


Say

by rebeccabethstilinski



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adorkable, Derek is barely in this ok, Fluff, Future Fic, John Mayer - Freeform, Love Confessions, M/M, Puppy Isaac, Romantic shit, also cooler than you!Boyd, best friend ever!Scott, cooler than you!Danny, mentions of stuff, this is pretty much a Stiles fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-17 22:36:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/872743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebeccabethstilinski/pseuds/rebeccabethstilinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles needs to man up and say what he needs to say.<br/>Scott, Isaac, Danny and a reluctant Boyd give him a push in the right direction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say

**Author's Note:**

> {EDIT} 14/7 - Changed a few words about, zagged when I previously zigged.  
> Think I'm gonna make this into a multi-chapter fic/series?

“Stiles, what do you want? Why are you even here?” Derek sighed.

  
Stiles opened his mouth, and then closed it again. He knew what he wanted to say, what he had to say. It wasn’t all that difficult, in theory.

  
  
 _I’m in love with you. I have been in love with you since I was 18 years old. I have been wildly attracted to you since I was 16. I had a schoolyard crush on you when I was 7 and you were 14 and you were mowing Mrs Turner’s lawn across the street from the park. I used the money my mom gave me to buy an ice-cream to buy you a can of soda and I left it on the front porch while you were inside and you still don’t know that it was me. I’d really enjoy it if you put your face against my face and if there was some really awesome bad touch happening. Also I’m not at all opposed to spending the rest of my life waking up next to you and having to face your awful morning breath, or curling up together on your hideously uncomfortable sofa to watch superhero movies, or getting married and raising kids and growing old together._

 

But, yeah. Not so easy to say in practice.

   
\------------------------------------  
 

“He’s just so ugh, Scott. Y’know? He’s so good, but he doesn’t even know. He thinks I just think he’s a billion different kinds of hot, which, yeah, but he’s so much more than that. He’s awesome. I, y’know, I’m also awesome, but in a more, ‘can eat 10 hotdogs in one minute, plays computer game marathons, nerdy’ kind of awesome.”

  
Danny raised an eyebrow. Scott yawned. Isaac nodded furiously, then shook his head frantically along with whatever Stiles was saying. Boyd just stared at him, brows furrowed and top lip slightly curled.

  
“How did I get roped into this?” He asked flatly.

  
“Free pizza and beer.”

  
“Ah. Cool.”

  
  
Scott rolled his eyes. “Dude, you just have to tell Derek how you feel! Tell him – tell him that you think he’s awesome and that you want to have his impossible-to-conceive babies!”

  
“Walk in like a one-man army, fighting with the shadows in your head. You’ll be living out the same old moments, knowing you’d be better off instead if you could only say what you need to say!” Isaac grinned widely, nodding at Danny to continue. Stiles covered his eyes with his hands, smiling against his will.

   
John Mayer. Of course. What other advice would his friends possibly give him than a freaking _John Mayer_ song.

  
“Man, have no fear for giving in. Have no fear for giving over. You better know that, in the end, it’s better to say too much than never to say what you need to say again.” Danny clapped his shoulder as he stood up. He brushed out his shirt before he winked at Isaac, then motioned to Boyd with his hand. _Continue._

Scott looked confused.

“Even if your hands are shaking, and your faith is broken, even as your eyes are closing, do it with a heart wide open. Say what you need to say. Can we leave now, _please_?” Boyd groaned, pleading at Isaac with wide eyes.

“Dude, was that the song New Directions done at the end of the school shooting episode?!” Scott yelped. “Heather Morris deserves Oscars for that! _Oscars_!”

   
   
  
\-----------------------------

 

After driving around Beacon Hills for nearly two hours – while listening to his newly created John Mayer playlist (Friends, Lovers or Nothing was really, _really_ not a good idea) – Stiles was parked outside of Derek’s apartment. Well, down the street. Well, across the road. Round a corner. Two blocks away. 

  
He could walk.

He would walk. If only he could figure out how to use his legs again.

  
He steeled himself, taking deep breaths and clenching his fists. He could do this! This was Derek, just Derek. Just Derek, who made awful coffee like paint stripper and always wrinkled his nose when he smelled lavender and was a secret fan of musicals. Who cried when Angel died and was rooting for Elphaba and Fiyero the whole time and had a bit of a thing for Enjolras.

Just Derek, who once looked at Stiles in the middle of an Iron Man marathon and told him that Lydia was an idiot for never giving him a chance, but that it was her loss. That, one day, Stiles would find someone who made him feel the way Lydia did, but that it would be even better because they’d feel the same. That he deserved to be loved wholly and to be cherished, because he was something truly amazing.

And Stiles had just looked at him and thought, _so this is what falling in love feels like._

   
  
Stiles shook himself one last time. He could do this. He stared at himself in the wing mirror – this would be some John Hughes shit, okay? This would be _movie magic._

This would be Jake waiting outside the church and Keith spinning Watts in the street and Andie walking into prom. John Bender fist pumping the air…

No, he was _not_ Olive Penderghast. Emma Stone was hot, but ginger was not a good look on him.

  
He opened the door of his Jeep and stepped out, rubbing his hands against his thighs nervously. His hands were definitely shaking. His faith, well, he wasn’t a religious man, but his faith in Derek and his faith in Scott and the pack was 100% solid. His eyes were currently open.

One out of three ain’t bad. Things were going well so far.

 

The closer he got to Derek’s apartment, the more convinced he was that this was the right thing to do. He was going to do it, tell Derek how he feels and hope he feels the same.

If he were totally honest with himself, Stiles would say there was a pretty excellent chance of that happening. Derek was not a subtle man.

He was, however, a careful man. He was careful with the things that mattered. 

  
  
Stood at the main entrance to Derek’s apartment building, he pressed the buzzer and waited for the click.

He stepped into the building, and rode the elevator to the top floor.

He had barely climbed out of the elevator when Derek’s apartment door opened. 

  
Derek stood in his doorway silently, observing Stiles. His bare toes curled against the cold concrete step, his hair mussed and unstyled. He looked soft and warm, in a worn grey Henley and black sweatpants. Stiles swore his heart skipped a beat.

“Hey, Derek. There’s, uh, there’s something I’ve been kinda meaning to say, that I really need to say.” Stiles rubbed the back of his neck, looking up at Derek. 

  
Derek smiled softly, then tilted his head towards the door, “Okay. Come on in.” 

**Author's Note:**

> YAY A NEW FIC  
> I know I've sort of abandoned The One That I Want but I swear, I will finish it eventually.  
> I just need a push. I need a pusher.  
> This is woefully unBeta'd.  
> If you would like to beta some stuff for me, pls email me  
> rebeccabeth13@gmail.com
> 
> leave comments/reviews/threats/kudos/food/dylan o'brien.  
> tell me you hate me.


End file.
